


In Search of My Rose

by Basingstoke



Series: Tear Garden Trilogy [2]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-11-03
Updated: 1999-11-03
Packaged: 2017-10-02 17:30:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basingstoke/pseuds/Basingstoke





	In Search of My Rose

"Uncle Obi!" Obi-Wan caught the tiny boy, swinging Luke over his shoulder  
with a grin. He greeted his sister-in-law with a kiss to the cheek. "Obi-Wan!  
You're looking well. I'm so glad you're over your fever, we were so worried!"

"I'm feeling much better. Well enough to visit, certainly."

"Owen is seeing to the haymaking. He'll be out until sundown. Sit, have  
some tea and biscuits!" Beru shooed him into the parlor, where the house  
maid waited with tea.

"Ooo, almond biscuits!" Luke gasped in Obi's ear. He leaned forward  
against Obi's grasp, nearly toppling himself onto the floor. Obi-Wan lifted  
the three year old off his shoulder, holding him giggling upside down before  
handing him back to his mother.

"Luke. Behave yourself." Beru smiled down at her adored child. Luke  
was their one and only; Beru had been injured in birthing the twins, and  
the girl had been lost soon after birth.

"Are the crops good this year?" Making conversation, unable to ask the  
real questions.

"Very good. We'll be very well off this winter." She smoothed Luke's  
hair as he chewed biscuits messily.

Obi looked down into his own tea, sipping silently.

"Jasper is out with him." Obi looked up, startled. "He's so useful,  
and so trustworthy. Owen says that the dealer would be furious if he knew  
the man's true worth." She smiled at Obi.

"Oh yes. Yes, he would be. I'd like to see him, and thank him. He impressed  
the doctor even. Playing nurse so well." Grasping his napkin under the  
table. Calm, calm.

"Of course!" Obi's hands unknotted.

Jasper.

* * *

Obi worked at the ties of his shirt, loosening travel-stiffened knots.  
It was nearly sundown, and Owen would be back in soon. And Jasper with  
him.

Jasper. He closed his eyes. Pulled the shirt over his head, washed his  
face in the basin, ran the cloth over his torso, washing the dust and sweat  
of a day's ride from his skin.

Obi looked in the glass. A young man, of middle height, hair somewhere  
between blond and brown and cut in a short, sensible style. His chest smooth  
and unblemished, pale from days spent indoors. His face unlined except  
for a crease between his brows from nights spent hovering over books.

Unremarkable, unexceptional, except for the secrets lying under his  
skin. He walked toward the mirror, touching his reflection. "Who has kissed  
those lips?" he whispered to the ordinary man he saw. "Who has drawn those  
bones?"

The reflection touched fingers to his own, without answer. He rested  
both palms against the glass, staring into his own eyes intently. "What  
secrets lie inside," he whispered harshly. "What secrets do you hold?"

Obi tilted his head. There was no sign, no signal that he was anything  
other than he appeared. Quiet, conventional, and dull.

He licked his thumb and drew a wet line along his sharp collarbone.  
"But there is something there...We both know it."

How long had he so questioned the mirror? Obi wondered. Since he learned  
the difference between the propriety expected of his station and the moil  
of thoughts and desires within.

As long as he could fool the mirror, he was safe.

He pulled back, and drew a fresh shirt close about his chin. Obi tied  
propriety around his throat and smoothed the crease from his brow. Opened  
his eyes.

"This is all there is to see, mirror. Until tonight, this is all there  
is." The grey eyes in the mirror believed him, so he shrugged his jacket  
on and went to greet his brother.

* * *

Obi-Wan stood at the parlor window, peering past the glare of the lamps,  
along the dark lane. "Is he usually back this late?"

"Yes, often. I thought he might come in sooner since he knew you were  
coming today, but I suppose there was much work to be done."

"Come see my puzzle, Uncle Obi!" cried Luke. Obi turned away from the  
window reluctantly, kneeling at the low table with the child. "What is  
it, Luke?" He had never seen such a puzzle.

"Jasper made it! You put the pieces together to make a picture, see?  
This is a duck, and this is the water." The boy pointed to the colored  
blocks. "And then you turn them around, and it's something else!"

"How wonderful," Obi said, running a thumb along the smooth wood. He  
pictured large hands on the blocks, sanding them smooth as skin.

"Look!" Obi was jerked out of the thought guiltily as Luke began turning  
over the blocks, turning a yellow duck in a blue pond into a white falcon  
in a red sky. "It's a sunset, and that's the bird going home. See?"

Obi smiled at the boy. "What a clever puzzle!" Luke beamed.

All three then heard the slam of the door and Owen's resounding voice.  
"I'm home!"

"Daddy!" Luke jumped up and tore out of the parlor. Beru and Obi followed  
more sedately.

"Aha! The soldiers amass for the attack! But they are no match for this  
castle!" Luke shrieked and squealed as his father held him up in the air.  
Owen's healthy face split into a grin as he tucked his son under hs arm  
and kissed his wife hello.

"Obi-Wan! So good to see you. How do you like the books I sent?"

"Very well, brother. It turns out that Father had some quite valuable  
works of history."

"Valuable? Maybe I should have kept them." Owen winked.

"Valuable to me. I don't think the book dealer would agree." Obi-Wan  
hesitated, then plunged. "Brother, did Jasper come in with you? I would  
have some words with him."

"Oh, he's seeing to the carthorses. I can call him in--"

"I'll just go out while you clean up, brother, I don't want to hold  
you from your dinner waiting for me."

"Ah yes...is that apple dumplings I smell?" Owen tromped absently toward  
the kitchen, Luke still wiggling under his arm. Beru smiled at Obi as she  
followed.

Obi turned toward the door, gathering his strength. He turned the latch  
and stepped outside.

The only light came from the stables. Obi stepped carefully through  
the yard. Hesitant. He paused at the stable door.

Jasper stood inside, brushing down the two enormous horses. His back  
to Obi, his height and unruly shock of gray-brown hair echoing the horses'.  
But that delicacy of touch never belonged to a draft animal, that elegant  
carriage was his alone. Obi watched in silence.

"You can come in." A deep voice tinted with humor.

Obi-Wan flushed and stepped soft-footed over the straw. He blushed more  
at the even blue eye leveled upon him. "Hello again..."

"Visiting your brother, young master?"

"That's what I told him." He brought his chin up. "Visiting you."

Jasper didn't smile with his mouth, but his eyes. "I am glad to see  
you, then."

Obi moved toward him fitfully, stopped by a large hand. "Not here. Tomorrow  
morning, we can speak then. There's no privacy here."

Obi nodded. "After breakfast."

"Until then..." Brush of fingers over his palm, a faint caress.

"Until then." Whispered hoarsely as he backed away, moving out of the  
warmth of the stable to rejoin his family.

* * *

Morning.

Obi blinked into the grey light. Strangely crisp sheets scented with  
lavender surrounded his naked form. But the sheets should be softer, worn...

Obi bolted upright. His brother's house. His lover waited. Obi threw  
back the covers and wrapped the waiting robe around him, a familiar and  
comforting brown weight.

He splashed water over his face, waking himself up. Looked in the glass.  
"What secrets do you hold?" he asked himself.

Too many, answered his wild-eyed reflection. He wet a cloth and drew  
it over his face, smoothing serenity into the fabric of his skin. "Calm,"  
he whispered to himself. The glass reflected the same. He dropped the robe  
and prepared himself for the day.

Obi tied the stiff-collared shirt firmly about his throat, then tied  
careful bow knots in the four strings binding it from breastbone to thigh.  
The slim trousers next, and then the socks and tall boots.

Obi regarded his selection of waistcoats. Brocade for evening, wool  
for warmth. He decided on a simple cream cotton waistcoat, and slid it  
on over the loose shirt. It was cut high in the arm and neck, close-buttoned,  
with the top two buttons left open to accomodate the cravat. The cravat  
was folded, tied, and tucked into the waistcoat.

Simple, neat, clean. Obi's face rising from the layers of clothing that  
swaddled him in expectation.

The slim brown coat completed his disguise.

Obi looked in the glass, never quite sure if the man he saw was really  
him. The restrictive cloth held in the splashing plastic creature of his  
soul.

* * *

Obi stepped down the stairs. The household was bustling already, the  
day started early. Owen and Beru were in the breakfast room, a pleasant,  
airy corner off the dining room. Pale sunlight streamed over the family,  
Owen seated at the table chatting to Beru as she fed Luke.

"Good morning," said Obi, entering the room.

"Good morning, brother!" Owen said heartily. "We didn't want to wake  
you--our mornings start early than your city days. Have some bacon, it's  
fresh yesterday!"

Obi accepted the food with more appetite than normal. "I try to awaken  
early, brother, but the city keeps a longer day than you, I think. I hear  
the cries of the street peddlers well after dark, and entertainments can  
go until dawn."

"Do you go to many entertainments then?"

"No," he smiled. "I lead a rather ascetic life, I'm afraid."

"Oh," sighed Beru. "If we lived in the city I would be at the theater  
every night. I so enjoy it."

"You must come visit me, sister, and I'll escort you to the Metropolitan  
House every night and twice on Sunday! They have a special matinee then,  
you know." Obi shared a look with Beru, delighting in the sparkle of her  
plain eyes.

"Ha! Ha! Yes, we'll come see you, brother. But now," standing, "I must  
oversee the hay. The back field is still uncut and then the bales must  
be seen to. Obi-Wan, would you like to look over the farm? I've changed  
it quite a bit since we were children."

"Yes, that would be--"

"Good! I'll have Jasper show you around. I'll see you at dinner!" Owen  
strode out of the room, shooting off orders to the house servants.

Obi hid his smile in a bite of warm bread. A prolonged visit with Jasper,  
innocently sancionted by his brother. Wonderful. Wonderful.

He ate quickly, fresh bread and bacon with cider and preserves. Luke  
chattered brightly to his mother as she tried to get food into them both.

Suddenly Obi was aware of a tall shadow in the doorway. "Jasper, come  
in," said Beru.

"Sir said the young master wanted to see the farm?" Jasper stood at  
respectful ease in the bright room.

"Yes," standing up, "I do." Obi dropped a kiss on Beru's head and ruffled  
Luke's golden hair. "Good morning, sister. Be good, Luke!"

"I will!" cried the child, dropping his bread and butter on the floor.

Obi grinned and left the room, Jasper following behind him.

"The horses are ready, young master," said Jasper as they left the house,  
Obi settling his top hat on his head.

Obi-Wan rubbed his gloved hands together, trying to conceal their trembling.  
He swumg up onto his riding horse, with a flurry in his stomach as Jasper  
flung a leg over his own rough cob.

"Shall we start at the south field, young master?" asked Jasper with  
cheer in his voice.

"Do, let's." Obi suddenly turned his horse and goaded him into a gallop,  
leaving Jasper to follow at a more sedate pace. He revelled in the wind  
against his face, the moment of freedom, the feeling of flying in the saddle.

It was a twenty-minute walk to the south field, but a ten-minute run,  
over far too quickly. Obi slowed, still nervy but not trembling any more.  
Jasper lagged far behind, so Obi dismounted by a hedge of roses and hooked  
the rein over a handy branch.

He regarded the rosebush in its wild array, red and white. Finally doffed  
his hat and began cutting roses into the crown. Jasper reached him after  
a long while, dismounting gracefully and tying his horse near Obi's.

Obi offered Jasper the odd bouquet.

Jasper's eyes crinkled. "A romantic, young master?"

"Yes."

Jasper selected a half-bloomed white rose, its outer petals curling  
against the furled inside, and carefully stripped the thorns from the stem.  
He met Obi's eyes and tucked the rose behind the young man's ear, brushing  
his fingertips against a soft cheek.

Obi's gaze was heated, tinged with hectic nerve. He let the roses fall,  
piling around their feet in a gorgeous cascade.

Jasper pulled him in close with a hand behind his head, then sneezed  
and looked hurt. "Perfume?"

"The laundress must have..." Obi gave up on words, untied the cravat  
from his neck and let it fly free. They both watched the white fabric tumble  
over the grass, finally tangling in the hedge at the other end of the field.

Obi caught Jasper's gaze, trying to convey his longing with a look.  
The older man smiled slightly, offering his hand. "Walk with me, young  
master." Obi slipped his hand into Jasper's grasp, where it nearly disappeared.  
Such enormous, capable hands.

They leisurely crossed the field in the morning sun. Cool breezes played  
around them, and the warm scent of cut hay lay heavy in the air, unadulterated  
by perfume. Jasper slipped his arm around Obi's shoulders. "Close your  
eyes."

Obi hesitated, then leaned into the tall man and let go of control.  
He shut his eyes, breathing through his nose, feeling the sun on his face  
and hearing the peaceful noises of birds and horses.

Jasper smelled of hay and bread. Obi felt himself relax into his warm  
embrace. "Live in the moment," Jasper murmured, a rumble of voice felt  
as much as heard.

Obi sighed against his shoulder. "I wish..."

"Don't....just live for now. There is no future."

They walked silently across the field, the young man wrapped in the  
older, both peaceful and still.

* * *

Somehow Obi made it through dinner, feeling guilty over his distraction  
and lack of interest in his brother's business. They all turned in early,  
keeping farmer's hours. Obi sat on the edge of his bed nervously, listening  
to the household go to sleep. He finally stood and wrapped his long, dark  
coat about him.

Obi slipped out the kitchen door into the dark and silent yard. Looking...there  
he was, a shadow in a shadow, standing by the stable. He hurried over to  
Jasper.

"Come," Jasper whispered. "I know a place we can go." Wrapped his hand  
around Obi's and led him through the shadows out of the yard.

Obi felt not at all peaceful walking beside the slave man this time.  
"Jasper--" he turned, placing his hand on the man's chest. "I have to speak."

Nothing but a quiet blue gaze, a serene look.

"Jasper--I can't bear it! You should be free! Jasper--let me free you!"

"I am free," Jasper said quietly. "As free as I need to be."

Obi turned on him, eyes glistening with frustration. "I don't  
_understand!_  
I can--you can--you're too much, too much to be like this, trapped like  
this!" He gestured helplessly.

"Stop." Jasper put his hands on the young man's shoulders, holding him  
still. "Hush. You'll scare the horses."

Obi stared into his eyes, trying to understand the man's serenity.

"What are you offering me? The chance to be a laborer in the city? That's  
what my skills and background will allow me. Or the chance to be your pet,  
kept in your house?" He gazed down at Obi without anger, and without regret.

"You don't see," said Jasper. He pulled the younger man to him, pulling  
on the laces at his throat, pushing the shirt away from his shoulders and  
baring his collarbone.

"Look." He ran a roughened thumb gently along Obi's delicate bones.  
"You carry the mark of wings upon you. Over your heart, guarding your throat.  
Every beat of blood passing through you bears this sign of freedom." Jasper  
brought Obi's hand up to his own throat, holding it there against the pulse  
in his hot chest. "I bear it. My blood races as freely as yours. But at  
the same time..." Touching Obi's mouth, the indentation over his upper  
lip. "You bear a lock on your mouth, placed there to hold back your breath.  
Wings on your heart and a lock on your mouth, young master. All people  
bear these." The thumb brushing over Obi's parted lips, their eyes locked.  
"I could unlock my mouth whenever I choose, Obi-Wan."

Catch of breath. The first time Jasper had used his name.

"I choose to stay here. This is the best place for me." The hand falling  
away from his face. "Here at this farm...but also here in this spot, with  
you."

Jasper closed with Obi-Wan, encircling the smaller body with his arms  
and touching his mouth to the young man's lips, drawing him into a kiss  
sweet as mead, soft as silk. Obi pressed himself up into the embrace, eager  
to be touched, letting himself be soothed and seduced.

Jasper drew them both down onto the dropped coat, and let Obi-Wan make  
love to him there beneath the moon.

* * *

Obi tucked his head beneath Jasper's chin, his right hand gently clasped  
in Jasper's left, surrounding himself with his lover. Jasper idly flicked  
a feather over Obi's face, brushing foreahead, then chin, then pointed  
nose.

"I leave in the morning."

"I know."

"And you remain here."

"Yes."

"Can I see you again?"

"Yes."

"But not soon enough."

"Never soon enough for lovers, Obi-Wan."

Obi sighed into Jasper's chest. "I feel different."

"What's changed?"

Obi pushed himself up and stared down into Jasper's eyes. The man regarded  
him equally, head pillowed on heavily grayed brown hair. Obi touched his  
broken nose, one of the scars recalling a more violent past. "Are you truly  
content here?"

"Yes."

"Then I'm happy." He quirked a sudden smile. "And that's what's different."

Jasper's hand slid up his back, pressing his head down for a slow kiss.  
His short beard tickled Obi's chin, his hands playing over the slender  
form.

"How many names have you had, Jasper?" Obi gasped suddenly.

"Many."

"How many?"

"Too many. But this is the only one that matters."

"Why?"

"It's the only one ever cried out in love," Jasper answered simply,  
his voice roughened with emotion.

Obi was wide-eyed, astonished at the crucial importance of this fact.  
He was...special to this man in a way reaching even to his name, to the  
label he applied to himself.

He felt his heart suddenly swell, felt his essence boiling up to meet  
and merge with the shell. Rested his forehead on Jasper's chest breathing  
harshly.

Brought his head up suddenly. "I love you."

He was answered by a gentle caress along his face, tracing away hot  
tears. "I love you as truly and as well, Obi-Wan."

* * *

The house maid re-packed his trunk as Obi-Wan finished his tea. He shrugged  
into his overcoat and picked up his hat.

Something fell to the floor...a feather. He picked it up. The same feather  
that Jasper had played with the night before.

Obi smiled with his eyes and put it back in his pocket. He strode purposefully  
out of the room and toward the yard. Beru and Owen greeted him at the door,  
Beru with a kiss and a "come back soon," Owen with a handshake and a hearty  
second. Luke waved frantically as Obi crossed to his horse.

Jasper held the reins calmly as Obi mounted up. Obi caught his eye silently,  
pouring love into his gaze as he tucked the feather into his hatband and  
replaced it on his head. Jasper smiled through his eyes, caressing the  
muzzle of the horse and releasing the reins.

Obi pulled away, waving to his family as he urged the horse to a canter.  
The wind tugged at the feather but did not tear it away. He felt the air  
and the sun and the bright skein of love, laying a thread between him and  
his lover.


End file.
